Wasteland
by Echante
Summary: I'M DONE! haha Okay. Another try. Joey and Rachel are famous and attempt to date, but consequences lead to their inevitable break-up. Read and Review
1. Brutality

How many lives can you ruin before you stop feeling guilty? How unfeeling can a human heart be? How devastating can the track record of one person be? That was his job, stringing them along, making them think they were special, and then discarding them. Hollywood would never know that he was a player at heart because all of the beauties that he dated would just fade into oblivion while his star power matured. But this… This is the story of his enlightenment. This is the story of Joey Tribianni.


	2. Find Better Days

This is where the story begins:

**Many years earlier:**

Two cars pulled into the driveway and then just sat there in silence. They were waiting. Finally another pulled up behind them and stopped. Out of it emerged a man, and in his tow was a girl. Her blonde hair hung loose behind her, and her body was tensed and ready to flee. Her face was gorgeous, she had the face of a girl who had a story to tell, not just an empty soul to fuck. The man pulled her along, and then stuck a gun to her head, but still she had the grim determination of rebellion on her face.

"What did I tell you?" He yelled into her face, but she held her ground and instead looked away. "Fuck." He spat the word into her face, but still she remained un-wavered.

Finally she murmured, with the slightest trace of a smile resting on her lips, "Do you do this just so I have something to write about?"

"I told you! No drugs. Now it's all over the internet!"

"How am I supposed to concentrate with you screaming in my ear all the time?"

"Do you want me to kill you?"

"You wouldn't do that."

"Why the hell wouldn't I?"

"Father. I make all your cash. If you're still unaware of that I have the check from my last album to prove it."

He looked at her sighed, then turned away. "What the hell am I going to do with you?" he whispered to himself.

"You can start by not kidnapping me whenever I misbehave."

He turned and then backhanded her face. "Shut the hell up!"

She laughed and wiped the blood of her face with the back of her hand, and then she sang, "I was your anger, and you were my fear…"

"Shut up!" He yelled and fired his gun into the air, barely missing her.

"Father. We both know you're just going to yell at me and then take me back to your house where I can continue to make money for you."

"You're useless to me if they hate you."

"Hollywood breeds drugs."

"Not in you it doesn't!"

"They're not going to care."

"Yeah. Right. Drugs break careers kiddo. Okay? So you better hope with all of your damn heart that they don't care."

Yet she still laughs likes she's carefree, "Calm down okay?"

"Get in the car." She stumbles, "Damn it! Get in the car!"

"Chill Dad."

"Get in the car." He mutters through gritted teeth.

"Go fuck yourself."

"Rachel."

"Thank you."

"What?"

Her eyes soften a bit, "Thank you for saying my name, I like hearing it."

* * *

Despite her rebellious demeanor the night before, she worked hard to produce lyrics for her father, and stayed away from drugs and alcohol that night. While she was working her mother came in unnoticed, and sat and watched her work, finally after watching in silence, she broke it, and said, "He hurt you again didn't he?"

"He can't hurt me."

"He beat you."

"But it doesn't hurt anymore."

"I can't live like this…"

"Mother, he will kill you if you leave."

"I know. I know."

She laughs and then says, "Think of better things." And then she sings, "Just the chance that maybe we'll find better days."

"Goo Goo Dolls?"

"Yeah. They're amazing."

"Yeah they are."

She lets out another lighthearted laugh, "Mother! Don't worry about me! How about listening to my song instead?"

Her mother smiles grimly, "Alright darling."

She grins and then opens her mouth to sing,

"I guess I'm just a hollow shell to you,

I know what you see in me,

I guess I'm just a beating heart to you,

I know I just can't compete.

You're waiting for the change of seasons,

You're waiting for the summertime,

You're waiting for the path to open up,

Once it opens you'll be fine.

But all I can say is in the words of Mother Mary,

And all I can say, is let it be cause someday you'll see,

I free you from his grasp."

With that she put down her guitar and smiled, "That's all I have for now."

"It's beautiful."

"Hah. Thanks for making it better."

"Seriously."

"Seriously doesn't help me."

"Ok. Don't you think that he'll find out?"

"Find out what?"

"That this song is about him."

"It's not."

"Honey it is, whether you want to admit it or not, it's about your father, and it's about me."

"I will though mom. I'll free you from his grasp."

"No. Someday, someday soon, I'll free you, from his grasp."

* * *

And she did. It was that night that her mother shot her father, and then herself.

* * *

Review, Critisize, i really need to know how to get better. Oh and i'm sorry about my last fanfiction if anyone read that, i cant finish it. I just dont know how to.


	3. Fight the urge

**Please review! Please review! Please review! Please review! Please review! Please review! Please review! Please review! Please review! Please review! Please review! Please review! Its not that hard.**

**Three years later:**

Headlines Read: "Rachel Green, cross-over to film successful? Critics think so…" She read this with a smile on her lips. "They don't know the brunt of it," she commented to herself. She checked Yahoo, and MSN and found not all the opinions were positive but criticism was something she was used to accepting. "And today was a good day," she said out-loud, and then laughed, "Mother, you'd be proud." Then she turned solemn, "Father, though, you, I hope you burn in hell." And then she broke her fast.

* * *

Not to far away, sitting and reading the very same article was Joey, and this is where he becomes directly involved in his life story. In the background his manager yelled at him, "Hey Joe!"

"Yeah?"

"You gotta find a new one."

"Yeah I know…" he said dejectedly.

"What was the last one's name again?"

"Angela."

"Yeah. She was hot."

"Yup."

"We need someone hotter."

"Huh."

"Have anyone in mind?"

Joey picked up the magazine and showed the picture of Rachel to Charlie. "Her?"

"Joe. You can't get her."

"Why the hell not?"

"Because when you dump the other girls, then you can just walk on, and no one will ever know you were a jerk to them cause they'll fade. But this one, she's famous."

"Well maybe I don't dump this one."

"Tell me the truth, do you really think that'll happen?"

"Yeah. You're right."

The doorbell rings, and Joey goes to open it, revealing the mailman, who hands him a stack of crap. He takes it, and thanks him and then walks back to his chair.

* * *

"My first guest today not only has two Grammys but is also nominated for an Oscar for her upcoming movie, _Clarity. _Please welcome Ms. Rachel Green!"

She walked out smiling, in a tiny black dress, "Hi Oprah."

"How you doing darling?"

"Oh I'm all sorts of good," and then she laughed gorgeously, "How are you?"

"I'm good too. Okay, so first I need to clear some rumors up." Rachel's eyebrows raised.

"Just say yes or no."

"Yes."

"Wait."

"Haha."

"Okay. First one, you're dating Joey Tribianni…"

"I wish."

"Haha, okay number two, you're first movie was really _Sex Toy Story Two, _a porn movie."

"Damn, how'd that get out?"

She and Oprah shared a laugh.

"Okay. I really doubt any of these are true, but I do know one thing about you that is…"

She acts hesitant and a little scared, "What?"

"You're on the cover of Esquire!"

Rachel laughs, "Oh yeah."

"This is the sexiest woman alive ladies and gentlemen!" Oprah screams at the audience as they explode in applause.

The T.V. switches off.

"I swear I get horny looking at her."

"You got to fight it Joe. There are a shit load of smoking hot girls for you to fuck, what's the big deal?"

"She's gorgeous."

"Get over it. You're 26, you got your whole life in front of you. Get over it."

"Yeah. Okay."

He sits there for awhile and then suddenly gets up saying, "Hey Charlie, take the rest of the day off, I'm gonna go for a walk…" and then he walks out the door.

Rachel Green sat in Oprah's dressing room, fingering a picture frame of Oprah hugging Rachel's last boyfriend. The door opens and Rachel suddenly puts it down. Oprah walks in and then swears, "Holy Shit."

"Sorry." She grinned, "I just wanted to talk to you, and they said to wait in here."

"No it's fine," Oprah said back to her, "You just scared me."

"Sorry." She repeated.

"Don't worry about it. What did you want to talk to me about?"

"Oh. I just wanted to thank you for having me on. I know I wasn't your first choice…"

"Honey, no, you weren't my first choice, you were better than my first choice. I didn't even think we could get you!"

"Hah. That's a bunch of bull, but thanks."

Oprah grinned, "So what are you doing for lunch?"

* * *

She sat opposite the T.V. Mongol in a new restaurant in Chicago called Veerasway_, _eating sushi and just laughing about life in general. After awhile she excused herself to the balcony so she could take a smoke, and sat outside taking in the breeze for awhile, cigarette in hand. In walks Joey Tribianni. _That's strange, _she thinks to herself, _I thought he was in L.A. _He sees her and suddenly walks towards her direction.

"Hey!"

"Hey."

"Do I know you from somewhere?"

"Probably from _Sex Toy Story 2," _she mutters.

"What?"

"No. I don't think you do."

He grins, "Now that's modesty madam."

She smiles to match his, "Oh?"

"Yes. You. Are one of the most famous people in this world."

"Really?" she said, faking intrigue, "And who are you?"

"You don't recognize me?"

"You know it's really hard to when your flies open."

His hands dart down to his zipper, which he found safely closed, but when he looked back up she was well on her way back to Oprah, and somehow in his hand he found a napkin with a number on it.


	4. Shadows and Regrets

**All I'm saying is just hit a button, review it up, and make my day! How hard is that? Haha. You can even yell at me if you have to… Or say I suck. But please tell my why so I can fix it. Thank you. Haha and yeah my Rachel is a lot more… jaded then the one on Friends. I think she's a little more based on real life Jennifer Aniston then Rachel… Oh and do me a favor, read the dialogue out-loud, that's how it's meant to be read.**

He picked up the phone and then put it down again. What words are capable of expressing absolute confliction? It was a paradox; he needed her to reach a level of success that he never had, but in getting her, he would have to maintain a relationship that would subtract from the act he played that right now was his success. Hollywood loved single Joey Tribianni, who was compassionate, but love-sick because he couldn't find that one person. In Rachel Green he found a girl he would even consider keeping. But if he called her, he'd have to treat her right, or risk the exposure of his secret. Risk people learning that Joey Tribianni, is nothing more than an empty shell. Finally he resigned to desire rather than comfort, and picked up the phone and dialed.

"Hello?" said the voice on the other line.

"Is this Rachel Green?"

"How'd you get this number?"

"You gave it to me…" he said hesitatingly.

"Joey?"

"Yeah."

"Oh. Hey! Sorry about that, I thought the paps got my number somehow."

"It's ok."

She laughed, "What's up?"

"Um. Well, I'm in L.A. and if the gossips are to believed, so are you, so I was wondering if you wanted to have dinner sometime…"

"Hah. When did you turn into a stalker?"

"No," he corrected her, "Not a stalker, just… an abnormally curious regular guy."

She laughed again. "Sure. Let's have dinner."

"Alright, do you have a place in mind?"

"It it's not the Ivy then I'm good."

"What do you have against the Ivy?"

"How long have you been in Hollywood babe?"

"What?"

"Honey, the Ivy draws fame crazed freaks that actually look good in every picture that is ever taken. And you may be one of em' but I am sure as hell not. So."

"Ok. Somewhere else then."

"Sounds good."

"I'll pick you up at 8."

"Wait where are we going?"

"It'll be a surprise."

* * *

He pulled up into her driveway and was immediately subjected to the judgment of her guards standing by the gate. After calling her to confirm the visitor they finally let him drive through. She came running out of her house, pulled him out of his car and then examined his clothing. "Shit," she yelled out and then ran back inside, her heels clicking as they hit pavement. A few minutes later she came running out in jeans, a cami and flip flops, and stood in front of him silently asking for examination. He grinned and said, "alright, now are you ready?"

She laughed, "Yeah. You didn't tell me anything!"

"Well. I wanted it to be a surprise."

"But then I wouldn't know how to dress!"

"We can keep having this argument…"

"It's okay. Let's go." And with that she got into his convertible without waiting for him to invite her. From the front set she impatiently said, "What are you waiting for?"

And with that he laughed and climbed into the seat.

* * *

They pulled into the nearest In-And-Out Burger and Joey brought out disguises for the both of them. And they stumbled in, pretending to be people, not celebrities. They stocked up on food and milkshakes and then drove on to Joey's beach house. Once there they sat outside, drinking beer, and eating burgers.

He was the first to initiate the inevitable conversation, "So. Tell about yourself, parents? School?"

She winced slightly, and then smiled, "What about them?"

"Are you close with your parents?"

"Yeah. More with my mother than my father though."

"Oh. I'm sorry why?"

"Just normal man stuff."

"But your mother is nice?"

"My mom's a saint." She said it firmly believing it wholly. Then she laughed and interrupted, "How about you?"

"Oh. You know. The normal story, divorced, dysfunctional. Hah."

"Yeah." She smiled along as if she did know. But what is the normal story, because if that was it, then the world was a terrible place. Finally she decided to deter the conversation, and stood up, "Race you to the beach?"

Later that night as she lay safely in her own bed she wondered, _are my children going to end up being me?_


	5. The Heart of Life

**Pre-oprah interview… people… please comment… I mean come on, there's 100 of you reading this, surely like a tenth of you could pick up your mouse and comment, its boring writing for no one… ******** haha. Thank you. Oh and a lot of the lines I took from Jennifer Aniston's interviews… but this is a mix of Rachel Green, Jennifer Aniston and kinda me…**

* * *

**Vanity Fair **

**2007, January Issue**

**A Investigation of Charachter **

At fifteen years, she was already established; resting atop the empire of her father's recording enterprise. At seventeen ubiquitous photos of her smiling face followed you along the highway, and her voice was stalked and analyzed by whichever radio station you happened to turn to. It was that year as well that scandal hit her; she was exposed as to using recreational drugs, pot and cocaine. The whole experience was capped by her father and mother disappearing into unexplained retirement, and the turn over of the enterprise to her uncle Jack Geller, though it now rests in the hands of his son and daughter; Ross and Monica Geller. Now at age 21 she's hit a peak she's never reached, but yet it seems that even scandal cannot slow her accent of stardom. So what type of person do you expect Rachel Green to be? I was thinking cold, obnoxious, and snobbish; after all she had been of fame for most her life. But you know? Sometimes people judge wrong.

Almost an hour before our interview I get a call from her PR wondering if I'd eaten yet, and if I hadn't, would I mind putting it off until the interview? Of course I graciously agreed. A half hour later I get a call from the star herself asking if I had any food allergies, which I don't.

So when it came time for the interview, I pulled into the driveway intrigued. The signs were continuously contradicting my original impressions of her character. The two phone calls seem to point to a caring, open personality if someone were to take the time to plan a meal for their interviewer, despite the fact that it wasn't mandatory. So after being confirmed at the gate and buzzed in, I found myself staring at the approaching figure, sprinting towards me. Rachel Green in real life is drop dead gorgeous, even more so than on screen Rachel Green. I didn't even know it was possible. But real life Rachel Green is even more than we see on screen. She looks more suited to sing her songs that ring of damaged beauty. I can see the scars on her wrist from that well documented suicide attempt, and the burn marks that were never satisfyingly explained. I can see the tiredness through her bright smile and bouncy words, and the tattoo on her wrist saying "let it be." Seeing my gaze resting there, she smiles and sings, "When I find myself in times of trouble, Mother Mary comes to me…" and then grins and grabs my hand, pulling me along with teenage giddiness, "Come! I've been baking all day!"

So we continued to stuff a **ton **of junk down our throats, most of it was slightly burnt and had an overwhelming amount of frosting… I'll never understand how she keeps that famous figure. Then she turns to me and grins, "Interview me!"

Of course that exposed me to be a blithering idiot, everything I'd assumed about her had gone out the window hours ago, and all the "facts" I had were shady and painful. So being the amazing investigative journalist that I am, I asked a stupid question. "What have you learned over the past few years?"

She grins, lights a cigarette while offering me one, and then says, "Thieves get rich, saints get shot, and God don't answer prayers a lot."

Obviously my shock at her cynicism shown on my face, as she laughed; amused. "I'm kidding babe! Um… what have I learned?" She ponders for awhile and then laughs, "Everything?"

It was at this point that I realized how guarded she was. Each word uttered chosen carefully, each thought and action expertly calculated. Unfortunately this realization didn't do much for my questions, "You've led an interesting life…"

She grins, "I certainly have had well documented ups and downs if that's what you mean." She says this clearing understanding the implements I had made with my previous words.

"From rebellion…"

"To this," she finishes, following my stupid gaze to her very non-threatening jeans and Cami. "Shocking isn't it?"

"Yeah."

"Well people change. You reach some point in your life when someone tells you, 'hon, not all publicity is good publicity.'"

"It was a publicity stunt?" I say, surprised at her bluntness.

"I was just trying to get sympathy."

"What changed?"

"I realized all I really need is music."

Her house is not extravagant on the inside. The casual clothes she wears are from target's newly revamped but still very cheap style, not some over-priced, unpronounceable boutique, but, she tells me, "There is never too much money to be spent on music." She shows me her five 180 GB ipod videos, "One for running, one for writing, one for Rock, one for Jazz and one with everything."

Surprised I remarked, "You like Jazz?"

She grins, "So sue me."

I scrolled though her one with everything, which she said has, "all of the best songs," and I really does include **everything, **from the greats, Frank Sinatra, Tony Benett, Simon and Garfunkle, the Beatles, U2, Rolling Stones, to alternative bands, (most of which I'd never heard of but love now) Augustana, Aqualung, The Decemberists, Jack Johnson, to Jazz, Micheal Buble, to Rock, Sheryl Crow, The Police, A.F.I. Goo Goo Dolls, Foo Fighters, well this list could go on forever.

She said, "Some people believe in therapy with shrinks, and while that's all good, the best type is music therapy, turn your volume up and sing until you don't have anymore problems."

I raised an eyebrow and she explains, "I didn't figure that out before."

The next day we were set to meet again, this time I arrived at her recording studio to pick her up. On our way to lunch she asks if we could stop by a C.D. store and then leads me in. After spending twenty minutes looking through rows and rows of C.D.s which she explained, "likes better thank downloads," she found what she was looking for, and several C.D.s she wasn't. She takes them to the check out mumbling, "I'm going to need a new ipod." Among those that she buys today are, Duran Duran, Radiohead, the Beach Boys, and Coldplay. She smiles at me and apologizes for keeping me waiting, and then hands me a C.D.: Continuum, by John Mayer, saying, "Listen to this, it'll reaffirm your faith in…" she pauses to decide on the exact word, and then she says, "in brilliance."

I thank her and then we head for a restaurant that will remain unnamed, where we continue our conversation.

"I was so lost then," she says a little dejectedly, "a little cynical, and blind… I think I just didn't realize to just let it be. Because I honestly believe that everything works itself out, and everything happens for a reason."

"So do you believe in God?"

She pauses to ponder, "Yes, Yes I do. It's not like I'm a religious nut job or anything, but it's hard to believe that this all," she gestures around, "This all just happened…"

"What about science?"

"Screw that! If God were all powerful he could do anything he wanted."

"Why would he change evidence to make people not believe in him?

"Why would O.J. Simpson wake up one day and shoot his wife and kids?"

"He was innocent."

"Supposedly…" she winks.

Somehow in that hour our conversation turned to Italian Renascence art, "oh I'm not an expert."

"Oh?"

"It's kinda boring."

"Yeah?"

"I guess I'm not patient enough."

But when pressed to name her favorite painter she names Caravaggio, "I have a print of one of his painting that my mother gave me, she used to say that I remind her of him," she grins wickedly, "rebellious and dangerous. I kinda like that description."

A few days later we talk on the phone, and after exchanging greetings the first thing I hear is a loud thump, and then "ouch!" and the dropping of the phone. So I panicked. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. I just discovered that I can't build a bookcase by myself. Damn Ikea, it's supposed to be easy to use!"

So who is Rachel Green? She not the girl spoiled by celebrity that we all expect. She's a little tested, a little rebellious, mischievous, wise, brilliant, charming but scatter-brained, but above all she's a kindred soul who believes in the magic of music. As I sit here concluding this piece, John Mayer sings in the background saying, "I know the heart of life is good." And it is if this is the type of person life brings to us, then John Mayer is surely right.


	6. What are we Supposed to Be?

Exintaris

Exintaris! Your back! I missed you and your tough love! Haha. Thanks for the help, and it means the world to me that you like this. It's like praise from the master.

**Everyone else! Please review. I'm basically begging you! Please! **

* * *

"It's been a month."

"Huh?"

"It's been a whole month Joe."

"Charlie, what are you saying?"

"When are you going to dump her on her ass?"

"I told you. I'm not gonna. Not yet. I want to have some fun with her first."

"Joe you keep this up, you'll be where you don't want to be."

"And where the hell is that?" he asked irritated.

"You know where that is."

"Dammit Charlie! No! I don't!"

"Love."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Love is exactly where you don't want to be. And that is exactly where you're headed."

"I'm not that dumb Charlie. That's not where I'm going."

"I'm not so sure."

"Why do you keep doubting me? Don't you know me at all? I don't get deep feelings. That's for them golden boys, they make me sick. Them with their romantic nonsense, 'oh Jenny I love you so much!' and then bam! Guess what Ben! You're divorced! What happened to happy ever after? Believe me Charlie. It's not a mistake I'll make."

"Then what are you doing?"

"I'm living my life."

"You're losing your life."

"Dammit! It's only been one fucking month!"

"Fine." He murmured, "But it's the first time you've ever yelled at me Joe. It's not just a fucking month."

"Get out!"

"Joe!"

"Get the fuck out."

* * *

"Rachel!" Monica Geller squealed as her cousin walked through the door to her recording studio. "Oh my goodness! I cannot believe you're dating Joey Tribbiani! Give me the details!"

"Hm." She purses her lips in response, and then gently explains, "Monica, it's not as glamorous as it all seems."

"I don't care! He's so gorgeous!"

"Monica! We're not going to last!"

"Why the hell not?"

"Because he's going to get bored of me, and I'm going to get boring."

"Why?"

"Because that's what always happens."

"Rachel! The only reason why any guy has ever broken up with you is because you, well there was that one time you cheated on him, but all the other times you broke up with them!"

"He's going to find out, and then he's going to look at me and pity me, and be repulsed by the thought of me."

"No. Hon he's not."

"How do you know?"

"I don't…" she sighed, "But let it be."

"I can't. I'm dysfunctional, and they all would have figured it out eventually."

"Rachel. That's in the past. He's dead."

"He was my father."

"So."

"That just makes it even more disturbing."

"You hid it so well."

"It's not hidden that well. The media, they're this close…" she indicated with her fingers, "They are an inch away from finding out the truth. No matter how much PR I have. No matter how many fake shots I have of random people in Asia, or in Africa. No matter how many telephone conversations I pretend to have with them! The press is still suspicious. Joey'll know soon."

"That doesn't mean he'll dump you."

"He will. He'll find someone prettier, someone better, someone who's not damaged…"

"There is no one better. Esquire?"

"It's just a magazine. With a new cover every year. They dispose of their models. That title means nothing. Absolutely nothing at all."

* * *

"Rachel! Rachel!"

"Huh?"

"Rachel! You haven't sang for the last two bars… what's wrong?"

"Nothing. I'm just…"

"Look. I don't know what problems you have, and I don't really care, but go and take care of them and then come back. Your no use to me if you're dysfunctional."

"Thanks Ross."

"Haha, no problem cuz. Fix it. Please."

"Ok." She hesitates and then resigns, "Ok."

* * *

The phone rings in his pocket, and he picks it up, "Hello?"

"Joey?"

"Yeah?"

"This is Rachel."

"Oh. Hey."

"I think we need to talk. Can we meet?"

"Yeah sure where?"

"How about at my place? 1:00?"

"Ok. See you there."

"Right."

He hung up the phone and frowned, was it possible that a girl got tired of him before he got tired of her?

* * *

She stood there bouncing up and down on her heels as she waited in nervous anticipation of his arrival. Finally she heard the ring she's been waiting on, and took a deep breath to begin her journey to the door. There he stood, his smile wavering, and then failing at the sight of her expression.

"Joey I think…" she began.

"No. Shush." He said and kissed her on the lips.

"Joey."

"I know what you want to say."

"It's for the best."

"Really."

"Yes."

"I thought you were different. I thought you wouldn't judge my past."

"What?" she exclaimed, "Joey! This has nothing to do with you! Or your past!"

"Then why?"

"There are things about me that you don't know… That you don't want to know."

"I know your reputation."

"You don't half of it."

"Rachel."

"It's for the best. Really. It is. It's for the best."

"Rachel."

"I'm trying to protect you. I thought I could be normal but…"

"Tell me. Let me help you!"

"No… No. You can't help. Please leave."

"Rachel!"

"Please Joey. Please leave." And she closed the door behind him, leaving him on the porch lost and confused.

* * *

"You know Joe. I hate to say I told you so but…"

"Aw. Shut up!" And his face hit the couch.


	7. You Were My Angel

"Joe. If you keep this up, I'm going to dump you flat on your ass."

"What?"

"Mope. All you do all day is mope. The press is fucking sick of you answering all their questions with, 'believe what you want.' You're my friend and I want to be supportive, but I've got to make a living too! And I can't do anything for you while you're in this predicament…" But Joey stays solitary, "Joe."

"Yeah." He groaned.

"Joey, I quit."

"What?"

"I'm dumping you flat on your ass."

"Yeah. Okay. Whatever."

"You're becoming someone I don't like, and I can't stand here for one second longer while you kill yourself!"

"Okay. Leave."

"Joey!"

"Get the fuck out of my house!" he screamed, and Charlie did just that, and he never came back.

* * *

**People Magazine March Issue: What's wrong with Rachel Green?**

_The question on everybody's mind these days is has she gone suicidal again? Friends are seeking help, but most fear the worst._

February 25, 2007 should have been the best day of her life, as she won the Academy Award for best Actress in her first movie ever, _Clarity, _the gruesome fiction of the cost of success. But she wasn't even there to receive it, excusing her absence to her "sickness." A week later when she did appear from hiding the figure so admired by the world was gone, replaced with bone, and little of anything else besides clothing. The smile known to decorate her face was replaced with a haunted stare, and responses to questions from press were blunt and curt, so unlike the previous flirtatious charm she exuded.

Well we might have the answer. Sources close to Aniston are reporting that she was seen in the company of one Joseph Tribbiani, who coincidentally…(I think not) went into hiding around the same time of her isolation. However Joey has yet to emerge, and having recently fired his PR, _People _has no way of contacting him. Will time tell? We certainly hope so.

* * *

**People Magazine, April Issue: What's wrong with Joey Tribbiani?**

_Last month we asked the question, 'what's wrong with Rachel Green?' Well this time we are asking about her rumored ex. Joey Tribbiani._

Gone are his womanizing days. I mean, we all liked to entertain the idea that he was heart sick, but did we honestly believe that act? Well Joey hasn't been seen with a new woman for a whole month! That's not like you Joey! What happened to you? That's what _People _would like to ask! But the signs are pointing to better days. Recently he hired a replacement for his PR, a Chandler Bing, who says that his bad mood is only attributed to the recent death of an aunt that he loved dearly, and also a long bout with the flu, and soon Joey will be back to the man we all know and love. While I desperately want to believe in this hope, do you really think that is going to happen? As for Rachel Green? Well I suppose all problems are forgotten, she was recently seen having fun in Hawaii with some un-named friends. We hope Joey will soon be the same.

* * *

Monica watched as Rachel walked in, bandages around her wrist from her incident only a week ago. But what could she say? How do you talk to the woman who is so damaged she becomes suspicious of every ounce of happiness. She watched as the woman walked to the lounge, earphones in, bouncing slightly with each step to her music.

"Rachel!" she yelled out. Yet she was ignored. "Rachel!" she repeated, to no avail. Finally she ran up to her and shook her, "Rachel!"

"Sorry…" she mumbled.

"Rachel. What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing…" she mumbled again.

"There must be something, this isn't like you."

"I'm just tired that's all."

"You've been 'tired' for the last two weeks, come on, there must be something else. Please! You can tell me! I'm your cousin!"

"Monica!" she said scoffing slightly, "There's nothing wrong with me!"

"Right, then how come you drag your feet every time you walk through the door." She grabs Rachel's wrists and holds them in front of her face, "How come you have these…"

Rachel pulls her wrists away and looks around, avoiding Monica's glance, "It was an accident."

"This is no accident."

"You don't know!"

"I don't need to know. You don't cut both of your wrists by accident!"

"I didn't! I don't… she stuttered, and then fell faint on the ground.

* * *

"This is just creepy."

"You think?"

"Uh… Yeah."

"Oh."

"What's your obsession with this girl anyways?"

"She was my perfection."

"What?"

"No. That's not right…" he paused and then amended his thought, "Everything about her was perfection, her faults were necessary, her annoyances were enduring, and she didn't…" again he pauses to think, "She didn't bore me. All of the others did. But she… She was beautiful, even in her darkest hour."

"Dude that's really cheesy."

"It's the truth."

"Ok. Well if I have to present you to the public, I don't think my best story would be, 'Joey? Oh. He's just upset cause he lost a girl.'"

"That's what Charlie would do."

"In case you hadn't noticed, I'm not him. So fuck him."

"Just do whatever. I don't really care."

"Right now you can not care. Go ahead, feel sorry for yourself, but you can't just stop living."

"Look at this…" Joey interjected, drawing their attention back to his wall. "You see, these two articles all say that she has lost an immense amount of weight. Maybe she's not over me…"

"You're keeping these magazine clippings as hope?"

"Yeah…"

"Joey. This is all crap they make up!"

"Behind every smoke there's fire."

"Behind every fire there's a thousand dollar payoff! Forget her! Move on! Maybe ignore women for awhile, but move on!"

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"Because she was my angel."


	8. Run Baby Run

RossnRachel4everr oh fuck you're right, I did refer to her as Aniston haha, I went on and to research the people magazine articles so it must have slipped into my consciousness. My bad. Thanks for catching that. Exintaris no. I meant what I said this time! (haha that's hella rare) but yeah just read it again. If it still doesn't make sense then maybe I'll change it. You're better at this stuff then I am. Haha yeah. And I have a huge amount of interest in celebrities too. So join the club.

**Feel free to criticize! That's how it gets better!**

She awoke to doctors hovering over her, and then to Monica's worried face asking again if she was okay. Then she remembered, she remembered everything and the immensity of it all overwhelmed her. Monica asked for the third time since she's opened her eyes if she were okay.

"Fuck Monica! Why did you bring me here!"

"What?"

"Why am I in a hospital?"

"You fainted! You were laying on the floor!"

"No." she said as one doctor tried to touch her, "Fuck you! Fuck you all! There's nothing wrong with me!"

"Rachel!"

"No. Monica, I'm leaving." She said and shoved the doctors away, and walked out the door.

"Rachel!" Monica yelled as she ran after her.

"Go away!"

"No!"

"Leave me alone!"

"No!"

"Leave me alone!" she said, as she pushed open the hospital doors and landed right in the middle of paparazzi frenzy. "Oh shit." She mumbled as she began to push through them.

"Rachel!" Monica yelled, and then to the paparazzi, "Fuck off people!" But when she looked up again she had no need to yell. Rachel had stopped short.

"What the hell are you doing here?"


	9. This Is Your Life

"Rachel?" Monica waved her hand in front of her cousin's face. "Rachel?" But she remained unresponsive. "Rachel! Who is this?"

But Rachel ignored her, "I said what are you doing here?"

The other man spoke, "You didn't think I would come back?"

Paparazzi surrounded them, so intrigued that they spoke nothing besides the conversation of the video cameras whirring. "No. I didn't. You were supposed to be gone for life."

"I got out early."

"They couldn't handle you?"

"Good behavior."

"Right."

"I've changed Rachel."

"People like you don't change."

"Rachel…" Monica whispered into her ear. "Who's this?"

"Yeah Rachel. Tell me who's your friend?"

"Oh you don't know do you?"

"What?" said the man.

She laughed in his face, "You don't know!"

"Rachel…" Monica repeated.

"Monica. This is your father."

"What?"

"What?"

"That's right."

"No. No you're not my father. My father is Jack Geller…"

"Mon. You were adopted. Your real father killed my sister."

"You had a sister?"

"Alright. Alright. That was a long time ago Rachel."

"You! You don't talk."

"What?"

"You were my father's henchmen. You almost killed me!"

"I saved you."

"You used me."

"I didn't…"

"You helped him do anything he wanted to do!"

"I didn't kill you. You're still alive."

"No kidding…" then she yelled again, "No kidding!"

* * *

**People Magazine: Rachel Green, shady past even shadier.**

_Thanks to the Internet, Rachel Greens past has been exposed, and it's worse then first thought. _

On Monday, Rachel Green was spotted walking out of a hospital, where paparazzi immediately followed. But that's where the ordinary ends, because after walking out she had a blowout with her alleged uncle in front of Paparazzi cameras, saying to him, "You were my father's henchman," and "you killed my sister." What kinds of problems does her family have? And where are her parents now? Do we really believe that they are in "retirement?" Read about it in this issue of People Magazine.

He put down the magazine and looked at the clipping on his wall with newly gained understanding, and anger. Anger at all of those people who'd tried to hurt her. And protectiveness. He felt protective of her; he felt an overwhelming urge to protect the innocence and giddiness she'd shown in the little time they had been together. They had spent every waking moment with each other before she began to drift, and in those moments no sign at all of her past was evoked. And now. And now he understood, and he wished that the explanation was different. He wished that the explanation was ten thousand times different. Because this explanation explained only her tendency towards suicide; a life like this made people die inside.

* * *

"Rachel."

"I have a problem…"

"Tell me."

"I have a problem with you!" she screamed at him.

"Why?"

"Oh I don't know… Maybe it was because you killed my sister!"

"Rachel…"

"Or maybe, it was because you tried to kill me! Or is that selfish of me to actually want to live!"

"You sure you want to live?"

"What?"

"It's not the first time you've had scars on your wrist."

"Are you ser…. How the hell would you know that?"

"They let you read in prison."

"So you were checking up on me?"

"Sure. Call it that…"

"You know what? I thought you walked out of my life ten years ago, I want you out again. I want you out forever. You don't even deserve to live."

"Right. Okay. Then I'm going to go."

"Okay."

"Just one thing."

"What?"

"Jack Geller's dead. And I didn't kill him."

"Then who the hell would?"

But he kept walking and she yelled again, "Who the hell would!"

* * *

"Look bud, that's the fifth hooker you sent away… I know yer' famous and all but deez are my best gals'!"

"They aren't good enough!" he screamed.

"Look sir, I can get ya Alexandra, but she's my baby!"

"I don't want her."

"Then take yer damn business somewhere else!"

"I don't want to take my damn business elsewhere! I don't want to take my fucking life elsewhere! I want my life back! I want it back right now!" he yelled at the man, while his bodyguards slowly dragged him out the door.


	10. Find your missing piece

* * *

She sprinted after him smacking him from behind and then repeated, "Then who the hell would?"

"I don't know! Maybe his bodyguard, his maid… Maybe himself."

"Wait what do you mean he is dead?"

"Um… I mean that he has ceased to live…? What does it usually mean?"

"No. I just saw him yesterday! He was fine."

"Like I said."

"Shut up!" He turned to continue walking, "Wait! How do you know?"

"I have sources."

"Who specifically!" she said impatient.

"My agent."

"And he said he was murdered?"

"Knife in his chest."

"It wasn't him."

"And how could you know that."

"He was a happy person."

"Things aren't always as they seem."

"He was happy."

"That man was a brilliant actor."

"No… He was happy. I'm sure of it."

"Rachel. You don't want to hear this, I'm sure but your 'uncle' he wasn't so picture perfect as he seemed."

"He was more picture perfect than you!"

"He was a dealer."

"What are you tal… You killed him! You killed him too! Just like you kill my sister, your niece!"

"I didn't kill him!"

"You killed him you monster! You couldn't stand to see him take your place so you did the only thing you know how to do!"

"I didn't kill him. Rachel calm down."

"Wait…" she sat down taking deep breathes, "Wait… what did you mean when you said he was a dealer?"

"Drugs honey. Cocaine, pot… you name it."

"How do you know all of this?"

"I… You can't deny a man's curiosity."

"You're so fucked up."

"I'm not that fucked up Rachel, how can I kill the man that kept my children alive for me?"

"My father almost killed me. Father's aren't… They don't owe their kids anything."

"That's just cruel."

"Life is cruel."

"We really screwed you up huh?"

"Ya think?" she said sharply.

"Rachel. I'm back to make amends. I don't want my life to be this. I… How can I get you to understand?"

"You don't. You leave."

"Please just hear me out!"

She doesn't reply but she doesn't turn away either.

"There is nothing worse than isolation. Being locked away, standing behind bars and knowing that your life has only one thing to show for, and it was marred by death. I'm a criminal. Is that why I was made? To kill? And I thought, no. It can't be. I won't let that be my reason for living. I will make amends and I will right my wrongs. Hon I'm back to help you."

She didn't speak for quite some time, silently processing her emotions, clouds gathering on her face, sunshine trying to battle but coming to no avail, and finally she blows, "No! No! No!" she shouts, "Get out! Stop trying to charm me! It won't work. Not this time! It won't work."

* * *

"You know what I was thinking?"

"That you're fucking drunk?"

"What if the meaning of life really was 73."

"That's not… That's not even the right number?"

"How do you know?"

"I just… It's just not!"

"Then what is it?"

"I don't know."

"So ha!"

"What?"

"You know what ChanChan? We are gonna… we have gota…"

"Yes?"

"We're going to find you a girl."

"Haha… No..."

"Well with that attitude you'll never find one!"

"And with this attitude you'll soon never find a job, so why don't you sober up."

"I don't have a reason…"

"What?"

"There's no reason…"

"For you to… Not be drunk?"

"For me to live…" he finishes with a whisper.

"There's always a reason."

"Oh. There's a reason. But she's out there yelling at lost Uncles and having too many problems to remember me."

"Dude! Get over her!"

But Joey just laughs. "Yeah! Like I haven't thought of that one!"

"What's wrong with you man? When I took this job I was imagining the other Joey Tribianni, you know, dame after dame…"

"Well he's not here. So what are you going to do? Leave? Leave like that bastard Charlie? Huh? Go ahead. Go. Shoo." He made drunken waving motions towards the door.

"Joey I'm not leaving. I'm just trying to help you out."

"I'm past the point of no return." He said suddenly somber, "a couple of months ago, there's no way in hell I would end up like this. But I saw! I saw the light! Do you know what it feels like to have a girl who's not up your ass the whole time you're together? She understood every part of me. She understood what drove me, and why I am the way I am. She understands what it's like to not be able to do anything else."

"I'm sure there are other girls out there like that! You just have to find someone in the business!"

"She was special Chan."

"I'm sure."

"No she was. She was something else."

* * *

Where is rock bottom? There's a quest going on, an insistent part of human nature that so terribly longs to know the answer. It's a competition that no one wants to win, yet people try their hardest nonetheless. And when we try to force ourselves out of it, the ways we work are only temporary. We don't know how, or we don't want to, because the road back to happiness is steep, and we are afraid to fall deeper into the hole. So we turn to miracles. More like black magic, in a pill we are offered our hour of redemption. So we take it, not knowing where it will lead. But we really do know don't we. There's no way this ends well. We get lost in the delusion, in the fantasy of something that will just pick us up and clean us up, so we can start anew. Yet while we're trapped in that fantasy, the world is revolving around us, spinning us into an even deeper hole, which we can only hope to escape.

Out of millions that night, two in particular were succumbing to this temptation, one returning, and one trying, but both of them hoping… hoping to fix a broken heart.

And the Coldplay song goes, "I will try to fix you…"


	11. Boston

**A year later:**

He softly sang with drunken tone, "_I'm on a roll, everything I touch turns to shit. It's taking it's toll, can anybody get me off it?_"

"Joey?" Chandler said as he shook him, "Joey!"

"Yeah." He said groggily.

"Get yourself together!"

"NO!" He said, and put his head back on the counter.

"You have an interview!"

"Tell them to go to hell! I don't want to deal with it."

"I thought we were making progress!"

"I'm not a kid Chandler!"

"I know!"

"Then why do you keep talking to me like I am one?"

"Joey."

"Just leave Chandler! You know you want to! I don't need you! Just leave me. Let me die."

"I can't do that."

"Why the hell not!"

But he just looked at him and changed the subject, "This is Oprah! They want to see you! They're screaming your name on the street! Come on Joe. You managed to finish the movie! You can do this."

"I don't want to do this!"

"You're not a kid Joe! You just said so! You're not a fucking kid! So, get up! Your going to be happy, and your gonna take this shit," he said, picking up his alcohol, and needles, "You're gonna take that fuckin' shit out of this house, and you're not going to let it back in ever! Okay Joe? It's killing you! And you may not care but I sure as hell do! So take this shit, and get rid of it! And then go do your job."

"Geez. Okay… Okay…"

"You'll do it?"

"Yeah sure. If it means that much to you."

* * *

**Jay Leno, 2008**

"Okay so our first guest today hasn't had a public appearance for almost a year now. Apparently she had some stuff to deal with, but now she's back and as… uh... well there's no word for it. But anyways, please welcome the ever lovely, ever sexy, ever amazingly talented: Rachel Green!"

And then came the moment she dreaded, when the theme music would play, and she would have to fake happy, and fake nice, and fake funny and charming when all she wanted to do was scream, "Fuck the world!" Wouldn't the world like that? Huh? No. Now she had to pretend to be sane. She took a breathe and plastered a smile on her broken face and walked out onto the stage.

After the audience had settled down, she sat down and Jay followed suit. And thus the tango began, she hated dancing.

"So." He began.

"So." She mirrored.

"You know the question that everyone wants to ask."

"Actually no I don't."

"Come on."

"I honestly don't!" she protested playfully.

He sighed, "You're going to make me say it."

"I have no idea what the hell you're talking about." She said with a hint of a smile.

"Okay... Here goes: Where the hell have you been?"

She laughed, "Well I was in Chicago for awhile, that was fun, and then we went to Hawaii for a vacation…"

"You're really not going to tell me."

She took an innocent face, "This is me telling you!"

"You disappeared for almost a year hon, did you really think we weren't going to ask?"

She smiled, and then scoffed, "I had… a few things to deal with…"

"Who's John Green?"

"Who's Charlie Brown?"

"Honestly."

She just smiled.

"Are you really going to play it that way?"

"What way? Jay… Seriously. Let it be."

"You're really not going to tell me?"

She laughed, "Jay, my life is incredibly boring, you have no idea."

"You jest."

"Mayhap."

"Oh?"

"Mayhap not…"

"What's with the ye' ol' English?"

"You started it."

"I did?"

"'You jest…'" she quoted.

"Oh…"

"Yup."

"Okay. So you really are not going to talk about it at all?"

"Talk about what?"

"Okay I get the hint. We can change the subject."

"Thank you." She smiled.

"So, how's your love life?"

She spat out the water she was drinking, "Seriously Jay!"

"What?"

"You get right to the point huh?"

"What?"

"Not even a 'you look nice, how are you doing today?'"

"You look nice, how are you doing today, who are you beeping."

She faked an astonished look, "You kiss your mother with that mouth?"

"Why are you avoiding my questions?"

"Why are you dating Oprah?"

"Say what?"

"Say Ok! Magazine!"

"What?" he laughed.

"They're saying that she dumped Stedman to run away with you."

"Oh really?"

"Yeah…" she said, and showed him the magazine she'd been clutching on her way onstage.

"Wow."

"So? Spill!"

"No comment."

She laughed.

"Hey! Don't be smug!"

"No so funny when it's your ass on the line huh?"

"Shut up."

"Okay…"

So they sat in silence for half a minute before Rachel interrupted and said, "This is going to be a hella boring interview."

So Jay laughed and the conversation continued from there, "Okay. So no embarrassing questions, this is professional!"

"Thank you."

"So who are you sleeping with?"

"Why is Oprah leaving Stedman?"

"Fine."

She just grinned.

"So let's talk about your music."

Again she faked excitement, "Oh yes let's."

Jay laughs, "So you have a new single out."

"Yes."

"It's called, _Send Your Prayers to Me."_

"Yes."

"It's a little dark."

"It wasn't the best time of my life."

Jay raises an eyebrow.

"That's all I'm going to say."

"Haha. Okay. So you're going to sing it for us right?"

"Yes."

"Okay folks, sit tight because after this commercial break Rachel Green will be singing!"

And the camera went blank, Jay turns back to Rachel, "How are you doing?"

"Good."

He raises his eyebrow.

"Seriously. I'm fine."

"You sure? Hon you're my friend, I can ask you those questions on air cause I know you can deflect them… But anything you say now… it won't get on air, i swear to God..."

"I'm fine. Let's talk to the audience."

"Okay."

_A few minutes later._

"And we are back with Rachel Green who is going to sing to us, a brilliant song called, _Send Your Prayers to Me."_

The lights dim, and she moves to where her band is waiting for her and starts to sing:

(To get a feeling about how it would sound, it's to the tune of Boston, by Augustana. Haha. I know this sucks but I had to write something… You'll see)

"If you fall too many times, do you still get up?

Falling isn't fun.

Your breathe, it turns to frost,

You lose yourself to prove yourself,

You couldn't just go on, instead.

You keep walking, You just walk til' death, oh yeah,

And instead, you keep running, you just run away, oh yeah

If you run to many miles, how far do you still go?

Before you fall behind.

When all your hope is gone,

You can't believe the truth, though it's crying when it sees you, instead,

You keep walking, You just walk til death, oh yeah,

And instead, you keep running, you just run away, oh yeah,

You think I'll write another prayer, send it off to no one,

I'll pray for yet a new life, and leave this all behind…"

And the screen goes to commercial.

* * *

**Okay, just so you know, the first song that Joey is singing is called Cinderella by Aqualung, and please review. That'd warm my heart. Haha please I'm desperate!!**


	12. Welcome to the Real World

Exintaris: Damn it

Exintaris: Damn it! You're right! I should have seen that…

**Sorry people I have seen the light, that last chapter was just a waste of space. But!! About the music! It is absolutely delightful… hahaha, if you don't read this at least do me a favor and look up those songs. But please people! Please Review! Even if you reviewed before! I mean, I'll take anything! I know someone is reading this so PLEASE REVIEW! It really is all that is making me happy right now. My life is shit give me this one escape, let me know that you're reading, and that you care about this. **

"Joey I got to ask…"

"Not now!" He said impatiently, staring at his television in the dressing room Oprah had allowed him.

"Joey!"

"Look I'm here alright? Leave it at that!"

"Why her?"

"What?!"

"You know what I'm talking about."

"Yeah but I don't know why you're talking about it."

"I just don't understand, you guys only dated for like a month, and suddenly you're BAM in love?"

"I…"

"It doesn't make any sense."

Joey's eyes weakened for awhile and then hardened again, "I don't know!" he said angrily.

"Maybe you just put her on a pedestal. Maybe she was the only girl who ever broke up with you. Maybe she was the only girl you didn't date because you had to."

He covered his ears and squeezed his eyes shut like a toddler, "Shut up!"

Sensing that he'd hit a nerve, Chandler continued, "Maybe… Maybe you never loved her in the first place."

And Joey looked up at him with weakened eyes and whispered, "Do you think that's it?"

"I don't know…"

"Then why would I do this?" he said gesturing at himself, and his misery.

"Guilt?"

"No… No… It couldn't be…" he said weakly.

And that's the moment when Oprah called his name and he was forced to enter the stage. He walked on like a wreck and proceeded to crash and burn through the whole interview. Afterwards he would ask Chandler why he'd chosen that moment to confront him and Chandler would say, "That's when I realized Joe. You were hurting yourself for no reason, I had to say something as soon as possible."

So no. Of course it wasn't love. It was just the idea of love. It was just him imagining love…

Boy did he have an amazing imagination.

* * *

She was walking in Chicago again, the wonderment at beach and city being so intertwined but apart never ceased in her. She was raised in rhythm with the city, but she was loved by the beach, it embraced her approach; so to have both in such close proximity was like having divorced parents reunited at her side. And besides, this was where she met him. 'Him' that led to the solitary month where she actually followed the advice tattooed on her wrist, where she lost herself in his charm and simply "Let things be." Him that'd she'd broken, in order to keep from demolishing. 'Why can't life be simple?' she wondered. But she knew the answer, 'life can, just not for me.'

She wasn't watching where she was walking when she ran into him: Joey…

"Um…" she stammered.

But he said nothing, just drank her in his eyes and then looked down at the papers she dropped and gathered them together, and then he grinned handing them to her, "These are for you."

"Thanks." She smiled up at him. And then the moment broke.

"Can I buy you a drink?" he asked eagerly.

"Um…"

"Please?" he almost begged.

"Joey…" she said, her resolve weak.

"Come on. Just to catch up."

She almost gave in but then gathered herself and said hesitantly, "Joe. I'm getting married."

It was his turn to drop the papers. "What?" he whispered, barely able to rid himself of any extra breathe.

She pursed her lips awkwardly.

"To who?"

She sighed and said, "That's not important."

"Of course it is."

"Why?"

"I want to know… I want to know who I should be jealous of."

"Joey…"

"Rachel… I never wanted us to break up. Please give me another chance!"

"I can't… This is something I have to do…"

"You don't have to do anything…"

"I have to do this…"

_**Flashback 6 months ago:**_

"Rachel."

"You said you came back to help me."

"I did."

"This isn't help, this is blackmail!"

"No. This is good for you."

"Who are you to decide what's good for me?" she shouted.

"I'm your uncle. I know what's best for you."

"You know what's best for you!"

"This is… where both of our interests cross."

"Oh. Uncle John!" she said in fake enthusiasm. "Oh! Thank you so much for finding me such an amazing man to marry!" Then she turned dark again, "Who the hell is he? Is this going to be like incest? Cause knowing you…"

"He's a brilliant businessman."

"So if I do this you'll tell me where she is?"

"Yes. For as long as you stay married to him, she stays alive."

"How do I know she's not dead."

"I hid her away a long time ago hon. I have pictures of each day, and I can have her call you if you want."

"Do it."

"Okay."

After having a very heartwarming conversation with her sister who she had presumed dead before, she hung up the phone and said. "Okay. I'll do it."

_**Present Day:**_

She turned to walk away from him, years of practice keeping the tears from falling on her face. But he called after her:

"Rachel wait!"

She turned slightly.

"Rachel! This is fucked up."

"Yeah?"

"Yes! Why do you HAVE to marry anybody?"

"Honey. My life is fucked up. Move on. Forget me. I'm not worth it… really."

He just stared at her, and then said, "Well. Let me just take you out to lunch. Friends." He stuck out his hand, "I swear."

She grinned and then agreed, "Alright." In her pocket her cell phone was vibrating but she chose to ignore it.

* * *

"So." He said as they were seated, tucked away in some unknown café they'd found abandoned in a corner hidden from the bustle of city life.

"So." She echoed.

"You look beautiful."

Feeling uncomfortable she changed the subject, "So what have you been up to?"

He laughed and then shrugged, "Um… I just finished a movie."

"Oh yeah I heard!"

"Yeah. That was fun."

"What's it about?"

"It's another Rom-Com." he said, and then laughed, "Hah. I've done so many, I just use the abbreviation for it now."

"It's okay. You're good in them. Stick with what works." She said smiling.

"hah. Yeah."

"Seriously!" she said playfully.

"We worked." He whispered.

Uncomfortable silence ensued, until he broke it, "I need to know why."

"Joey…" she fidgeted with her hair.

"Rachel. I need to know!"

"Joey… You promised!"

"Just tell me and I let it all rest."

"Joey…"

"Please?" he deplored with his eyes.

"My past…" she started, and then struggled to continue, "It… It's not… the best."

"No kidding," he smirked.

"Joey… If I don't marry Albert…"

"That stupid fuck's name is Albert?"

"Joey…"

"Sorry. Go on."

"If I don't marry him, my sister dies. Again!"

"She's not dead?"

"No! She's alive!" she said with hope etched on her face.

"Wow." He breathed.

"Yeah…" she took a deep breathe and broke down, "I've spent all of my life slaving for these people! I'm their fucking slave! Shit!" she yelled as she hit her knee, "I hate them Joey! I hate them!"

He gathered her into his arms and just stroked her back muttering, "It'll be okay."

"Yeah." She smiled through her misery, "Yeah. It has to be okay. Because I get to see her again."

He smiled and said, "Go, I'm no use to you. Forget me too. This was selfish. I just wanted to see you." Then he paused and said, "My prayers are with you."

"Thanks." She said, and tore herself away from his reach.

As he watched her go he felt his heart crumble inside him and he said to himself, "It's gotta be the love."


	13. In Repair

**From the Journal of Rachel Green:**

They say we're lucky. They watch us with envy and distaste for the glamour that we seem to revel in. They don't know. They don't understand. To be what I am, to be good at what I am, you have to be able to feel pain, to feel agony, to be depressed, because anything short of those… feeling anything short of hell, would leave too much hope in your writing. It's destructive, but for some reason we seem to embrace it. People come up to me and compliment me on the emotions I evoke, and in the reality of my lyrics. It's because my lyrics are my reality.

I've been terrorized by this family for too long. Ever since I was born and their last name was tacked onto me, I was dead by association. I was forced into this industry. I was forced to sing. I was forced to be obedient. Success has no meaning to me because of where it came from; it is tainted by their betrayal. I know it for what it really is.

But they gave me music. In that I owe them. They forced a guitar into my crib, and I sat there, rattle in one hand and the other running my fingers along the strings. They cemented it into my identity, and I guess I'm thankful, because I cannot envision a life without music. However horrible this one is, there is always music.

There was a time when I thought I was free from their tyranny. But they are always there. I've accepted that. I've understood that. I get it. No matter what I do, they'll come back. Let's just stop trying to struggle.

* * *

And then she put down her pen, folded the page, and watched it burn away.


	14. I Was Just Thinking

Hey people. If there are any of you reading this… I have no idea where I'm going with this… But that's how I write. Haha. Whatever pops into mind first… Oh well so just to warn you. Please review. And tell me where you would like this to go. Please? And thank you so much to the people reviewing regularly, you keep me sane. We're getting close to the ending maybe five or six more chapters.

* * *

"I don't know." These words, having left her mouth so often of late seemed to just glide off her tongue on their own now.

"You have to play at least four covers, and we haven't decided on any yet!"

"Ross. I'm getting married in another month. There's a lot to do! You shot down all of my ideas already!"

"Fine. Let's go back over them."

She sighed agitatedly and then started, "I'll be there for you, Bon Jovi."

"Do you seriously want to come across as a man?"

"I could be gay."

"Rachel!"

"Okay. Geez."

"You know what? Just pick four and be done with it."

"Okay. Let it be, Beatles."

"Fine."

"Viva La Vida, Coldplay."

"Guy song!"

"Not specificly!"

"Fine."

"Love Song, Sara Bareilles."

"Okay. One more."

"I want to do Promiscuous, who's touring with us again?"

"Are you serious?"

"Yeah…"

"Okay…"

"Who's touring with us?"

"Yellowcard."

"They're not rappers are they…"

"No."

"Damn it!"

"Sorry Rach."

"Fine. Then let's do… Um…"

"Rach…"

"Yeah." She said sharply.

"Um…"

"Sorry. I'm just stressed… What were you going to say?"

"Um. Maybe you want to try one with a little more…"

She stared at him expectantly.

"Um… Hopeful."

"You mean full of shit?"

He didn't reply so she just sighed and agreed, "Fine, Um I'll do New Soul."

"Yael Neam?"

"Who else?" she snapped at him, and then immediately regretting her words she apologized, "I'm sorry, get out of here before I bite you." And watching Ross scrambling to obey she sunk her head into her hands and sighed.

* * *

It wasn't that she wasn't excited to go on tour, no, every fiber of her being longed for the feeling. The high of performing in front of an audience and losing yourself in music has no comparison. But it was rather the light at the end of this tunnel that scared her, the light at the end of this tunnel was illuminated through the fires of hell. And hell wasn't where she wanted to go just yet. A hand reaches to rest on her shoulder and she bristles at the touch. But her experience kicks in and a smile plasters itself on her face, she turns to face her audience, to perform the role she's playing…

"Hey."

"Hey babe."

"What are you doing here?"

"What, can't a man come see his bride to be?"

She laughs, "No of course." And then she kisses him, "mmm, how was your day?"

"It was okay. Haha. You know the usual."

'Thank God.' She thought, inwardly grimacing at the thought of actually having to listen to him narrate his unusual days. And then realizing he'd spoken, she said, "I'm sorry what?"

"I asked how your day was."

"Oh. It was okay. Hah. There's a lot of work to go into a tour. But it was fun."

He took her hands in his and said to her, "And after your tour we'll be married."

"Mmhmm," she said smiling.

"Okay. I have to go, but I love you." He said kissing her.

"Yeah okay. I'll see you soon."

"Yeah." He said while flipping open a cell phone.

She didn't wipe of the smile until she was certain he was gone.

* * *

"You know. It's time you got married Joey. Bachelorhood doesn't work once you hit thirty."

"It works for plenty of people."

"Joey. They'll start to call you a jerk. In your twenties its fine but the press is going to massacre you for it."

"What about you? You're thirty, you're not married."

"I don't have the press on me."

"Hm…" he thought that over, "You're lucky."

"I know."

"You want me to get married?"

"Yes."

"Fine. Find me a girl." He said, and then walked out of the room.

* * *

"Rachel, this is Phoebe Buffay. She's going to be your drummer." Monica said, and then left to finish other tasks.

"You're Frank's stand-in?"

"Yeah." The blonde woman replied.

"Oh. Do you have a copy of the music?"

"Yeah but there's no drum part."

"Yeah. You make it up."

"What?"

"Don't worry about it. You just get up there and then whichever beat feels best you do."

"I can't do that!"

"I believe in you."

"I don't."

"Huh. Well trust your instincts. There's no real guitar part either."

"Yeah but…"

"Just trust me on this. The fear makes the lyrics seem real." She said, and then grinned and put a hand on the woman's shoulder, "You'll do fine. I have faith in Monica and if she found you..."

"Yeah… Okay."

"Okay." She grinned, and then clapped her hands saying, "Let's load this sucker!"

* * *

Phoebe sat on the bus counting trees as they passed, and wondering about their previous lives. After this tired her, she turned to people watching. Rachel was smoking out the open window, leaving puffs polluting the air they passed. Monica was taping impatiently as she reviewed their tour schedule. Martin, the bass player was asleep with a can of beer in his hand; and a pile of empty cans at his feet, evidence that he'd long since passed the pain-free state and had moved on to who knows where. Stephen was the piano player, employed to play for the occasions when a piano player was needed. Milky eyes served as the only evidence to his blindness, which he'd earlier told her, was not a disability, but a hearing enhancement. She could tell that he was listening to the breathing inside the van, trying to discern the state of each individual. She turned back to Rachel to find her not sitting as she had been, but cigarette gone, and paper in hand heading towards Phoebe. She sat down and greeted her, "How you holding up?"

"A little bored, but that's fine."

"Hah. I know. I'm sorry; we are the most boring bus until we've played. But then we can party. That's when we get all hyped." She giggled, "And that's when Stephen gets drunk. So…"

Phoebe laughed at that, "Well that's good to know."

"Yeah." She smiled, and then concentrated again, "Hey listen I'm premiering a couple of songs tonight… The problem is…" she hesitated and then quickly said, "I haven't finished them. Hah. I'm having a few problems with my lyrics… How bad would you say your life has been?"

"Oh I've had some bad shit."

"Good!" She said excitedly.

"Okay…" she said hesitantly.

"Oh! No no no! Haha. I mean you can help me out here. I'm having a problem with this one… Okay it goes…" and she starts to sing, "Beyond the land where dreams go,' and then, 'Trapped behind a window,' and then, 'Lies my soul she sang to me' and then, 'The air inside confinement, can only stay so silent, before it screams my misery.' It doesn't seem right. There's something missing." Then she grins and sings, "Something's, missing! And I don't know how to, fix it."

"Do you have a song for everything?"

"I'm sorry. It's a habit."

"No I like it. Haha. Um… I don't know."

"There's something wrong… I don't know what it is…"

"Its…" Phoebe began, and then shut up, but it was too late, she'd already aroused Rachel's interest.

"What is it?"

"Um… It's not my place."

"Damnit woman! Out with it!"

"No…"

"You started, you have to finish. Just say it. I won't get mad."

"It's a message. You're unhappy. I can tell."

"How?"

"You're act is… amazing. But… this is going to sound funny."

"I've heard…" she hesitated and then added, "and sang about every damn thing in the world. I don't think anything will sound funny right now."

"Okay… You're auora is murky. It's tainted with restlessness, and discontent."

"Yeah."

"Um…"

"Tell me more." She said, interested.

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"You didn't laugh at me."

"You're right, I am restless and I'm not content… Tell me more. What else can you tell about me?"

"Your song is a message, and in all of your other songs, your angst is hidden and well disguised, but in this one it is obvious. You want someone to hear it. But you want a lot of other people not to."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"So what do you suggest?"

"Me?" she gasped, other bands she'd played with had completely ignored her, never asking her opinion, so this came as a slight shock.

"Yeah. Who'd you think I was talking to?" Rachel replied, slightly amused.

"Um… Just be like, 'Behind this glass I'm hiding…' and then something with a little more hope."

"Hope." she said as her mouth twitched, "People keep telling me I need more of that."

"You do."

"I thought your life sucked."

"I never stopped hoping though. And I'm here playing with you, so I guess hope works."

"Yeah… Okay how's this, 'Behind this glass I'm hiding, but soon I will be flying, flying towards my hopes and dreams.'"

"Yeah. Better." She said smiling.

"Okay. It still sounds like shit to me. But I even slipped in the word hope so… How can you go wrong?" she laughed

"You know, you're different then I expected."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. The press thinks you're rebellious and dangerous."

"They're right." She says, smiling slightly.

"No. You're just censored."

She scoffs.

"No seriously. You've just spent so long expressing what you think other people want to hear, I think it's all just trying to get other people to hear you."

"Really?" she said intrigued.

"Yeah."

"How do you know all of this?"

"I can read people. That's what I'm good at." She laughs, "That's how I get most jobs."

"Huh. Well enough about me tell me about yourself, you said life's been shit, I want to hear it!"

They spent the next few hours recounting the tragedies of life, accounts that I will not bore you with, but instead will switch to the next scene of importance in this story.

* * *

"Her name is Alexandra," Chandler said while Joey made a face, "What's the problem?"

"It sounds very… I don't know, like uptight."

"Well that sucks," he said, and then continued down the checklist, "she's in medical school, but she's modeling to put herself through. Um… recent ads she's been in are Victoria's secret, Express, Khol's… I think that's most of it. But try not to mention Victoria, it makes you sound like a perv."

"Okay. Yeah I got it."

"Remember, parents and then…"

"Chandler, I have been on a date before… Have you?"

"Yeah okay. Go get her!"

"Wow…" he said, shaking his head.


	15. Shade of a Shadow

friends-girl2008 The rest of this story is for you because it seems that you're really the only person left reading. Haha. Don't worry about me quitting though. I've grown attached. But please, if there is anybody left!! REVIEW!

* * *

She sat in front of the television with a remote in hand, switching through the channels, until something caught her attention. "Who is Joey's new girl?" the television questioned her.

"Fuck." She said, as she watched the television brag about his latest girl, and then it said, "Joey was quoted hinting about marriage saying, "It's something I think about, but who knows? With Alexandra I have a good feeling, so yeah, that's the direction we are heading."

She froze as jealousy ripped through her body.

* * *

He sat there as she chirped about wedding plans, smiling along with her, and laughing without ever actually listening. And he found himself imagining she was someone else, someone who he was in love with. The model like sharpness in Alexandra's features was replaced with the damaged beauty that was his Rachel. Brown hair turned blonde, talk about doctorates was turned into teasing conversation; witty battles which he'd never been able to recreate with anyone else. So this was to be his future. Huh. Too bad it sucked.

* * *

She toyed with the gun in her hand, pointing it at herself several times before stopping. She entertained the idea of suicide, of never having to wake up again, and as much peace as the thought gave her, there was never a moment when she honestly wanted to die. That would mean the end of hope.

* * *

**About a year ago:**

"I cannot believe they bought your bullshit." She yelled at her uncle.

"Hey there was a time when I was your 'favorite uncle Johnny.'"

"You disgust me."

"Love ya too babe."

"So you told them you shot my sister out of jealousy, and now you're repentant, and you want to help the people you hurt?"

"Yeah pretty much."

"That's the same fucking line you used on me."

"Well they are not as smart as you then."

"Shut up."

* * *

**Now:**

Monica was sweeping out the bus alone after midnight, just as she picked up Rachel's recorder to go over her newly written songs, she heard voices. Realizing they were approaching the van, she quickly hid in the hollow bench Rachel had created to win hide-and-go-seek. A man spoke, "can we talk here?"

"Yeah. They're all asleep, we should be fine."

"You should check just to make sure."

"Okay." He said looking around, and then, "I don't think there's anyone here."

"Okay."

"Yeah. So what are you going to say?''

Realizing this may be interesting, Monica pressed record on her tape recorder.

"We have to make sure things are going according to plan."

"Okay."

"So. In a month Rachel will marry you."

"Yeah."

"Okay, as long as she thinks Allison is her sister nothing will go wrong."

"Uh huh."

"For the first month I want you to make her think you are the best husband in the world. After that, you can start with the beatings; we have to keep her whipped, because flattery really doesn't do anything to that bitch."

"Yeah."

"Then we take over her career."

"We'd have to get rid of your children."

"Yeah that won't be a big deal."

Monica shivered in her hiding place.

"I can't believe they fell for it."

"Who?"

"Everyone."

"Hah. Well people believe what they want to hear."

* * *

"Rachel! Rachel!"

"Yeah Mon?" she said, her gun hidden inside of her bag.

"You have to listen to this!"

"Are those my lyrics?"

"Um…"

"You recorded over my lyrics?"

"This is more important."

"What?"

"Follow me!" she said, leading Rachel into the family bathroom, "Is this sound-proof?"

"Here I have head-phones."

"Okay. Here listen."

"She's not my sister?" she said in shock.

"Yeah."

"We have to do something with this."

"Yeah."

"Okay. Call the police."

"You don't trust them."

"I have the fucking evidence. They can't laugh in my face now."

"Okay."


	16. Without You Here

Oh so people are actually reading… haha that's good to know. Thanks for reviewing. "She could have employed a Private Investigator to dig up evidence." That would have been a good idea… Too bad you're smarter then me… sigh oh well. Haha And about the police thing, I think it was more she was afraid they'd laugh not that she actually went and they laughed in her face. This is short.

* * *

"Show them the tape," she instructed, "and then tell them to be at my wedding."

"Why not sooner?"

"They're not going to do anything until then. I want to take care of a few things first."

"Like what?"

"You'll see."

"Rachel…"

"Mon. This is something I have to do."

"Kay…Okay. Whatever you say."

"Thank you." She said, her hand instinctively going to the gun in her bag.

* * *

'I'm going to finish what my mother started,' she thought to herself.

'But they'll arrest you,' her saner side argued.

'Who cares? Joey's getting married, I don't really have a reason to live anymore.'

'If you honesty believed that, you'd be dead already. Stay alive for your fans.'

'I can sing in jail. I'll have new fans.'

'You really are pigheaded huh?'

'If I let him live, they'll arrest him, and then he'll get out in five years and come back to haunt me again. He's charming, you can't let the police just handle that. They don't know him.'

'You have contempt for your country.'

'Yeah. Well that's nothing compared to the contempt my country has for me.'

* * *

He watched his fiancé talk to reporters, the smile on her face made bigger by the attention lavished on her. She was a publicity seeker, she was blind or indifferent to the lack of love in their relationship because of the fame she received from it. Well, that's okay. They needed each other for the same reason. Realizing the reporter had asked him a question he turned and said, "I'm sorry can you repeat that?"

"You guys got engaged pretty fast, can you comment on that?"

"Um… I just figured that I'm not getting any younger, and I've found a girl that I want to spend the rest of my life with," he said, flashing Alexandra a fake smile, "So yeah."

"Aw. That's cute."

He laughed, "Yeah."

* * *

She turned off the T.V. She was strangely drawn to his interviews although they knocked the fucking life out of her. Huh…


	17. Come Home

Damn. Okay. See I set this whole thing up, with "Oh Monica tell the police to be at my wedding," but I really don't have a reason for doing that. Oh well. Improv time!! BTW I swear I'm not suicidal. Oh. Giving credit where it's due…

'You have contempt for your country.'

'Yeah. Well that's nothing compared to the contempt my country has for me.'

Stole that from Studio 60.

* * *

She stared at the gun in her hand, tracing the barrel along the lines of her tattoos. She liked the certainty it brought, the protection; and knowing that at the pull of a trigger she wouldn't have to face the world anymore. If life overwhelmed her, its end was never far away. She liked the empowerment it gave her; the ability to instill fear. It represented endings, but the wielder was sinister, and sexy, and dangerous, and the idea pleased her. After all, she'd won an Oscar playing that role, how hard could it be? She smiled and thought to herself, 'I'm a psycho-path,' and then slipped the gun back into her bag.

The things left unsaid on her part, thoughts swallowed, curses detained behind her throat were all going to be released. And then she could rest. At long last.

* * *

Mechanically he pulled the tuxedo shirt over his body, and buttoned it up. He slowed to examine himself in the mirror, 'the wound is so blistered; rubbing salt in it wouldn't hurt much more,' he thought smiling wryly. Every Hollywood heavyweight had been invited, and failure to show up would have been construed as heartache by the press, giving ammunition to the insinuations that they'd been together, which he'd put to rest a year ago. Not going wasn't an option. But he wished it was.

* * *

'There's going to be press there,' she thought, as she was tugged into her dress, 'and Joey's going to be there. With his fianc**ée… **Oh boy. Well, more fun to go around.' Then her assistants left, leaving her alone in front of a mirror, open to self-judgment, and she gave it. Her fingers traced the identical smile, saying, 'fake,' they traced the curve of her breasts thinking, 'flat,' they ran down her waist and hips shouting 'boney' and 'wimpy.' She thought of the beauty he'd be flaunting right in front of her, and her decision was reaffirmed. She couldn't live like that. She pulled up the skirt of her dress, and extracted the gun from the depths of her purse. She lifted it out, and brought it to her lips before plunging it into its slot between the invisible slit of her dress. She stared at herself, and her insecurity stared back… 'Life sucks.' She thought for the thousandth time.

* * *

He felt hands on his back, they rubbed him… everywhere. But he was being touched by a whore, and for the first time in his life, it disgusted him. He spoke, "Sweetie, we have to go."

"I know. We're going to a wedding… Rachel Green's wedding." She said.

He was slightly taken aback at the discovery that this turned her on. "Um.. We don't have time for that…"

"Oh come on. There's always time."

"Not if you want to get there in time for the press." He said, grinning slightly.

That did it, she was out the door to dress, and he sighed at her ignorance.

* * *

"Are you ready?" Monica said from the door.

Rachel jumped up, slightly shocked, her hand instinctively going to her thigh. She could tell that Monica had noticed the gesture, although she didn't say anything, she looked worried. Rachel cursed silently at her misstep, and vowed better behavior if she was to make it unsuspected to the ceremony. She looked up at Monica and gave her a grim smile. "Yeah."

"You gonna be okay?" she asked, concern etched on her face.

"They fucked up the rest of my life, I get to be here when they get theirs…" she grinned, "I'm gonna be great."

"Don't do anything dumb okay?"

"I'm not planning to." She replied with a grim smile, and then she walked out, Monica trailing behind her.

* * *

She was walking down the aisle, her smile one so experienced that it looked real. He watched her face, fixated on her beauty, his fiancée noticed this with slight concern, but then turned back to primping herself. She passed by him and she seemed to pause, and her smile faltered for a nanosecond before it was regained. But he knew why, he saw her eyes glance at Alexandra and it gave him strange hope to know she faltered for jealousy. Then she walked on, and he felt his heart drop and he closed his eyes. When they reopened she had stopped by her uncle, and confusion crossed Joey's face when he saw her deviate from her marked path to stand in front of John. He watched her hand reach inside her dress and then gasped as her uncle pulled a gun and pointed it to her face.

* * *

_This would be an amazing cliffhanger… But I kinda want to know how this story finishes so… I'm gonna keep going. Thank me. ___

This she had not planned, though she should have. She had been so caught up in her dreams of vengeance she'd forgotten about logistics. But life wore her down and she was past the point of caring so long as she got her rest, so she spoke, "You gonna kill me John?"

"Yes." He said, "I should have a long time ago."

"You really want to go to jail again?"

"Oh. I won't go to jail. You see, you came in here with the intent to kill, otherwise you wouldn't have brought this." He said, while ripping away the skirt of her dress to reveal the garters with her gun attached. She stood there, rather exposed while male breathing stopped for awhile.

She remained unfazed, "Then do it."

"No. Not yet. I want to hear you beg. I want to hear you scream."

"I got news for you about the jail thing."

"I know the police are here. I go to jail for life either way. I may as well have a little fun this way."

"Huh." She said, wondering at all of her missteps.

"So beg honey."

"No."

He pulled her up by the hair and stuck the barrel in her face, pushing against her cheek-bones. "Beg." He said, strangely calm.

At this Joey stood up, but was immediately pulled down by Alexandra and the people surrounding him. He sat, with Alexandra's hand clamped over his face. John Green's attention hardly faltered. "Honey." He said, running his fingers through her hair, "Get down and beg…" he added, "Please."

She remained silent and unmoving.

"Okay. We'll play it that way" he said. And then suddenly shot her through the leg. Joey gasped and managed to wrestle the hands away long enough to yell, "Stop!" before they repossessed him. And he sat there, sobbing under the hands of the people.

Rachel felt her heart torn into two and she expressed it on her face which brought out an amused sound from her uncle's throat. "Oh. So this is your lover." He said, dragging her along with him as he made his way to Joey. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Monica held a gun in her hand, and Albert held another one, pointed at her cousin's head. "Cheating on your fiancé with this piece of shit!" he said, spitting into her gun wound.

Joey's eyes grew round and his mouth fought for air to express his reproach. But he received none.

John opened his mouth to talk again when he fell silent and then dropped to the ground, two bullet holes in his back. Rachel gasped and then looked towards Monica, who lay wounded on the ground. Seeing Albert rise to take aim to finish her, she grabbed the gun in her uncle's hand, and brought it around, with speed she hadn't know was in her, and aimed; killing him dead on. She stared at the gun in shock, and then dropped it as if it burned her. The next thing she knew her feet were carrying her to her cousin, who lay on the floor gasping for breathe.

It wasn't until she reached her that she gave in to the pain in her own leg, and collapsed on the floor beside Monica, gasping, "Why the hell did you do that?"

"He was about to kill you." She said, and then broke into a fit of coughing.

"Monica. He shot you." She whispered frightened.

"I couldn't let him kill you." She repeated.

"Monica shh. Don't talk. You're gonna be fine."

"No. No. I'm going to die. It's okay. You took the brunt of our family's evil, this is me... repaying you." She whispered, and then shuddered.

"Don't go! I love you. No. No." she repeated over and over again, sobbing, although Monica had long followed her father, and his henchman.


	18. Break Apart her Heart

There seems to be a common… outcry against my killing of Monica, so let me explain. From the beginning this has been pretty dark I like to think, it seemed unreasonable to give the characters a complete happy ending. Someone or something… some aspect of Rachel's happiness had to be sacrificed.

* * *

She slowly became aware of the cameras flashing around her, and the medics fighting to get through. She felt arms on her, gently trying to detach her from her cousin's dead body, and she could feel the words forming on her mouth, protesting. But she couldn't really put heart into any action. Some negative nerve in the back of her mind struck her about the lack of respect for the dead, as the tabloids pushed forward to capture the best picture they could. And then the world went black.

* * *

She woke on her bed in a suite in the hotel she'd been getting married in. She groggily opened her eyes and woke to find herself alone. And then pain set in as she regained memory of the events that had occurred just hours before. As grief overwhelmed her she made a decision, she'd finish what she'd started her life wasn't worth so many deaths. She reached under her bed and pulled out a shoebox, lifted the shoes out, and took what was underneath them: a Browning 9x19mm Hi-Power. This one had been her original, but she'd discarded it after she discovered that one in six times it would not fire. Those odds would not have done in her previous situation, but now, they sufficed just fine. Just as she was bringing the gun to her head she heard a knock on the door. Slightly irritated she considered just ignoring them, and continuing anyways until they spoke, "Rachel? Open up it's Joey."

So she did, still strangely drawn to his company, even as she was preparing for death. He sighed in relief as she opened the door, but the smile wiped off his face when he noticed her gun. "Rachel…" he said hesitatingly.

She glanced down at it too and then said, "Don't worry; I'm not going to kill you."

"That's not why I was worried."

"Oh?"

"You're going to kill yourself."

She stared at him awhile before finally saying, "Yeah."

She thought he'd try to talk her out of it; to protest but all he said was, "Why?"

"Because…" she said, and then hesitated before repeating louder and speaking with growing anger, "Because I can't be the cause of so many people's deaths, because I swore to Jack before he died that I would take care of his children. Okay? Because I can't go on living and be a legacy to this family... They are the representation of everything that I hate in humans." And then she broke, "I can't go on living!"

Joey felt his heart shatter as she spoke, and took time to recollect exactly what he should be arguing, but when he spoke all he said was, "Take me with you."

"What?"

"Shoot me first."

"No."

"Why not? My life's shit."

"Your life is fine. You have a gorgeous model that you're in love with and who is in-love with you. You have a beautiful career and it's only getting better. You're getting married in a month…"

He just stared at her, wondering how she of all people could be so naïve.

"What… Joey, why are you staring?"

He snapped out of his trance and told her, "My marriage was over before it began."

"What?"

"We broke up."

"Oh my God, I'm sorry."

"Yeah…"

"Was it because of what John said, that son of a bitch."

"Kinda."

"Shit Joey, I'm sorry for making you come."

"It wasn't your decision."

"Yeah but it was my wedding."

"That's not your fault."

"Then I'm sorry honey, for dating you. I'm sorry that ruined your life. That kills me alone."

"Don't be. It was the greatest month of my life."

She stared at him, a sudden urge calling her to let herself live, which reminded her of her mission. She said, "I really should…" she said, gesturing towards the gun.

"Kill me first."

"I can't kill you Joey."

"Then stay alive with me."

She gasped hopeful but then remembered her dead cousin, "I can't Joey. I can't live anymore."

She stood up and limped over to her nightstand where the gun rested and picked it up and re-pointed it to her head. She pulled the trigger and then all the sudden she realized there was a violent pain in her shoulder. "That's odd." She said before blacking out.


	19. Death and All of His Friends

**Leane: **Haha so long as I make you feel something, that's why I'm here. Hehe. Exintaris: Its only natural you're on my favorites list. Haha. I'm honestly a fan. Oh and no John was their real father, Jack Geller adopted them… Haha. For the rest use your imagination… It's not that important he's dead now...

* * *

Upon hearing the shot, the detective who'd been assigned to question Rachel, started sprinting instead of the slow meander he'd adopted earlier. He soon collided into Joey Tribbiani who literally pulled him off of his feet and dragged him towards Rachel's room, explaining along the way, "She was going to shoot herself, and I tried to knock the gun out of her hand but she ended up shooting her arm!"

As they ran along the officer asked, "Who's she?"

Joey whispered, "Rachel."

"Who?"

He said louder, "Rachel Green."

The detective gave him an odd look and then spoke into his radio, calling for an ambulance, and medical workers. Then he turned to Joey and said, "I'm going to need to ask you a few questions."

Joey nodded meekly. "Yeah."

"Okay." He stopped in front of her room and pushed the half open door further open. Rachel was passed out on the ground, a bullet wound in her arm, her gun discarded next to her hand. A few minutes' later medics came rushing in bearing a stretcher and surrounded Rachel. The detective turned to Joey and said, "I think we should talk in another room."

Joey nodded again and allowed himself to be led into the room next door, they were joined by another officer; this one was female. _(Just to make them easy to distinguish). _

"Joey." He heard the detective say, realizing that he'd spaced out, he opened his mouth to speak, but the only words that he'd cared about were, "Is she going to be okay?"

"I don't know."

He sat shell shocked, before he realized the detective had spoken again. "What?"

"Joey," he said softly, "What were you doing in her room."

"I…" he stuttered, before saying, "I can't tell you."

"Joey, you could go to jail, I need to know this."

Joey nodded painfully and opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

"Joey?" the female officer asked.

"I can't… Please." He begged, "not now. Later. Please anytime later."

"Joey…"

"I need to know if she's okay first…"

The other two exchanged glances before turning back to Joey saying, "Fine. But you need to stay in your room, you can't leave understood? We're not accusing you but we need to talk to you."

"Absolutely." He said relieved, but then realized, "Wait. Do you think… I can see her if…"

The detective looked at the officer who shrugged and then said, "If she's still alive… It can't hurt, if she doesn't want to see him he can just leave."

The detective turned back to Joey and said, "Okay. You heard her?"

Joey nodded.

"We'll call you if… If she wakes."

And then he turned and left.

* * *

She awoke on a hospital bed, with her heartbeat on display in a flat screen, and beepings that corresponded with the pounding in her chest. A nurse was bustling around and upon hearing her stir turned and grinned. "Oh thank goodness."

"What?"

"Honey. You've been out for awhile."

"Oh. Okay…" she said, noticing her voice sounded incredibly hollow.

"Hm. Well I should probably call someone now that you're up."

"Am I in heaven?"

The nurse laughed.

Rachel continued, "Because I don't really deserve heaven…"

"No hon, you're still alive. I'm sorry to disappoint but…"

"Oh…"

"Yeah." She started talking to an inaudible voice and then turned to Rachel, "There's a detective who needs to question you. Are you up for that?"

She nodded, "Yeah."

"She says it's fine." And then continued the conversation for a few minutes describing Rachel's medical condition, meanwhile Rachel busied herself by examining the bandage on her arm.

'Huh' she thought, 'How'd that happen?'

Just then the detective walked in and she startled, he smiled grimly at her and said, "How you feelin'?"

"Um…"

"Rachel?"

"I'm good." She said weakly.

He looked at her for a few seconds and then began, "Okay. Then if you're up to it, I need to ask you a few questions."

"Shoot." She says, before wincing at the unintended pun.

He doesn't notice but instead asks, "Is it true you shot yourself."

"I think so…" she says confused.

"What does that mean?"

"Um… I had the gun pointed at my head, but the bullet… It didn't hit where I aimed."

"So he was telling the truth." He muttered.

And then she remembered: "Joey."

"He saved your life."

Anger coursed through her body, as she thought, 'damn it! That's why I'm still here!' But she said nothing.

"Okay. Well I guess we've established it was a suicide attempt…"

"I don't have to go to a mental…"

"Asylum. No. I think it was just brought on by trauma so…"

"Okay."

He turned to leave saying he'd gotten everything he'd needed when suddenly he remembered something and turned back to face her, "Oh. By the way, Joey Joey Tribbiani would like to see you, is that okay?"

She hesitated and then nodded, "yeah, that'd be fine."

"Okay. I'll send him in."


	20. Watch the Dawn Break Through

friends-girl2008: Haha. Did you figure out they are all names of or lyrics from songs?

* * *

Just so you know, I named this story after a song by Augustana, basically talking about the downfalls of humans, I don't like picture perfect lives, and I think that suffering is a necessity in learning reality, maybe not to this extent but...:

Now I'm sitting on a plane, lonely flight back to LA...

Don't come back with me

So I'll drink myself to sleep, cut my skin until I bleed

Hold my breath all the night

Hear the sound? She was naked on the ground,

Till I whispered in her ear..

Come away, watch the dawn break through the day,

Till the sun, is underneath...

Cause it's 5 o'clock, the hour stops the sunlight,

The buildings shade the masquerade and kill time,

**Here we're nothin more than fools and whores and sad highs,**

**Through the summer sand, we're living in a wasteland**

I have the utmost respect for song writers, the language is poetry. There's beauty even in this depression.

* * *

Reflection: its death isn't it? If we weren't designed with that unavoidable need to reflect then regret wouldn't be existent. And if regret was nonexistent, then guilt would be easily evaded. But as he walked he reflected, and that lead to regret, and that led to guilt. Un-doubtfully she'd be mad, she'd wanted death, called for it, and obviously had tried for awhile now, and he'd interrupted her eternal rest because of his own selfishness to see her alive. He halted before he knocked on the door and then responded to her, 'Come in!' by opening it slightly. He found her sitting on her bed cross-legged putting her guitar down. He smiled shyly and said, "Hey."

She looked up and smiled, "Hi."

He looked at the guitar and she explained, "I just wanted to see if I could still play."

"And…?"

"I can!" She said gleefully.

"That's great!"

"Yeah." She grinned at him, and then her face turned serious. "Um…"

He sobered with her and then started his rehearsed apology, "I'm sorry I stopped you from..." He began, but she interrupted him.

"It's okay. You know? 'It's like the cloud has lifted and I can see the light, and it's good.' I didn't want to die. I just thought I had to."

"Oh."

"But why did you do it?"

He hesitated and then decided to tell like it was, "I didn't want you… to die."

"Oh."

"I know it was selfish."

"No. I just needed to pick up my guitar to know that you… you made the right choice."

He grinned, "That's good."

She smiled, "Yeah."

"So you're not mad?"

"No."

He sighed with relief as she looked at him with curious eyes, she said, "So how's Alexandra?"

"How do you know her name?"

"I hear things. It's a small world…"

"Really?"

"And I was a bit jealous…" she smiled.

"Yeah." He grinned knowingly, "She's still not marrying me if that was your question."

She smiled and then hesitatingly said, "Do you think if this…" she gestured, trying to find the right words, "Well… If this all didn't happen… Would we…"

"Still be together?" he finished.

"Yeah." She said, biting her lip and looking away.

He walked over to her, and lifted her chin so her eyes would meet his and said, "Yes. We would."

She just sat there trembling when he kissed her.

Haha. Jennifer Aniston said this part in her GQ interview, as you can tell I'm a big fan.


	21. The Fight For You Is All I've Ever Known

Nope. I'm not done. At least not just yet, because yeah, you're right, it was a quick turn around on her part… Oh and the last comment on the last chapter is talking about the place where there is an astrek.

* * *

"Joey." She whispered as he pulled away, leaving him with the disturbing piece of information: she hadn't kissed him back.

"Um…"

"Joey. We can't happen again. I'm sorry I was weak, I shouldn't have asked…"

"Why, why not?" he wailed slightly.

She just looked at him for awhile before responding, "I'll end up hurting you. I'm jinxed."

"I don't care."

"I care! Damn it! I cannot stand to see you suffer Joey!"

"I can't stand… I can't stand to live without you."

"It was just a month Joey. You have to realize that, in the end, it was all just a month, I can't… I can't let you throw away your life for a month. When you know me longer… you'll realize it wasn't worth it."

He stared at her, and then licked his dry lips before starting, "It wasn't only that month."

"What?"

"It was at least two months before that, when I… I fell in love with your voice, and your lyrics… your poetry."

She squirmed uncomfortably under his gaze as he continued, "plus the month when we were together, with I fell in love with you, and then the year after that when I fell in love with the image of you; with every interview you'd ever given and every word you'd ever spoken. And then at your wedding when my heart broke at the sight of you in a wedding dress, getting married to someone else. And then yesterday, when I realized that I cannot live without you."

"Don't say that…"

"It's the truth."

"No. It can't be." She said, almost believing him.

He just sat there and stared at her, when she argued, "What about Alexandra?"

Surprised he asked, "What about her?"

"Joey." She said, smiling wryly, "You were in-love with her; everyone knew that, it was plastered all over magazines…"

"How would you know?"

She blushed, "I was… a little curious."

"Right."

"Don't weasel out of this."

He sighed, "Chandler told me I had to get married to… avoid tabloid speculation."

"Oh."

"And I am a good actor." He said grinning, "I've had oh so much experience with 'falling in love' it's an easy part."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"So how do I know this isn't an act?"

He gasped surprised at the question.

"Joey?"

"How can you even think that?"

"I grew up with people lying to me."

"I would never lie to you."

"How do I know that isn't a lie?"

"Damn it Rachel! First you said you would hurt me, now you're afraid that I'll hurt you?"

She remained silent at his outburst.

Realizing his mistake he apologized, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean that. You want to know how much I mean what I say? I'll show you." He said, reaching for her hand to guide her away. "But keep in mind that I was insanely vulnerable here, so don't judge me."

She smiled slightly saying, "Never."

* * *

He led her through the jungle of plants leading to his house, and as they approached the doorstep he paused and hesitated and repeated to her once again, "Please don't judge me." He said meekly.

She grinned, "I wouldn't guarantee it."

But as pain crossed his face she quickly withdrew the comment, "I'm kidding."

"Okay." He said and opened the door after a final hesitation. They walked into the house while she glanced about curiously, he pulled her through to a door, half hidden behind several plants and she gasped at the sight. He paused before he said, "This is my shrine to you."

She beheld a sight laden with images of her, framed pictures of herself walking down the beach, laughing, or just sleeping, that he'd taken in their time together. They say that people look the most beautiful in the eyes of those who love them most, and it must be true, because within those frames was her beauty captured beyond imagination. She brought her hand to cover her mouth as she turned to face Joey, who was looking away with embarrassment. He whispered something inaudible and she replied, "What?"

"I said, 'It was the only thing keeping me alive this whole time.'"

"Oh."

Still he cowered, unable to meet her eyes. And she stood there confused, unable to digest the information. Suddenly she could hear the paparazzi outside, yelling for them to come out of the house, and reality crashed into her. And it forced her to think. She thought of her years of slavery under her family, and she thought about living her life trying to do what was best for other people. Why couldn't she, for the first time in her life, do what was best for her? Not her career, not to appease the media, or the public. But to please her own heart, which she'd long ignored. So this time, it was her who touched his face, and it was her who made her lips meet his. And it was there, that they lingered.

* * *

THE END


End file.
